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If there be aught that she must suffer yet,

Or aught omitted in the narrative

Of her long wanderings, I pray thee speak.

But if thou hast told all, then grant the boon

We asked and doubtless thou wilt call to mind.

Nay, she has heard the last of her long journey.

But, as some warrant for her patient hearing

I will relate her former sufferings

Ere she came hither. Much I will omit

That had detained us else with long discourse

And touch at once her journey's thus far goal.

When thou wast come to the Molossian plain

That lies about the high top of Dodona,

Where is an oracle and shrine of Zeus

Thesprotian, and—portent past belief —

The talking oaks,—the same from whom the word

Flashed clear and nothing questionably hailed thee

The destined spouse—ah! do I touch old wounds?—

Of Zeus, honoured above thy sex; stung thence

In torment, where the road runs by the sea,

Thou cam'st to the broad gulf of Rhea, whence

Beat back by a strong wind, thou didst retrace

Most painfully thy course; and it shall be

That times to come in memory of thy passage

Shall call that inlet the Ionian Sea.

Thus much for thee in witness that my mind

Beholdeth more than that which leaps to light.

Now for the things to come; what I shall say

Concerns ye both alike. Return we then

And follow our old track. There is a city